Our Given Names
by Dreamcreator
Summary: When John Reese is suffering from a bad cold, Harold Finch is there to take care of him. This night leads to some of the mysteries of both these men's past and a shocking revelation that is too much to handle for one of these men. Can they overcome this together or fall apart? NOT SLASH, Sorry!


**SORRY _AGAIN_! THE SITE REMOVED THE STORY _AGAIN_ AND NOW I PUT IT BACK UP _AGAIN_. I DO APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVIENCE AND TO THOSE WHO HAVE REVIEWED MY STORY OR FAVORITED IT. I AM SORRY ABOUT THAT. IF THEY CONTINUE TO REMOVE THIS STORY, I WILL HAVE TO LEAVE THIS SITE, AND WHEN THAT HAPPENS I WILL LET YOU ALL KNOW. ALSO JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE DECIDED TO CONTINUE WITH THIS FIC, BECAUSE SO MANY OF YOU WONDERFUL READERS WANTED ME TO FINISH IT OFF AND GIVE THEM A HAPPY ENDING. **

**THANK YOU.**

**DREAMCREATOR**

**Hi!**

**Sorry it's been so long since I have posted anything new. Just wanted to get this story idea out of my head, because I think this show is amazing (I LOVE BEAR!) and hopefully I can catch up with it when I have TV or if they post it to Netflix. Also just letting you know that I am working on my other stories so please be patient with me, they will be posted as soon as possible.**

**I would like think my dear friend KaraCullen for helping me get this going and being my beta reader. She is the reason for this story actually getting done and being completed, so a big round of applause for her! Go read her clex stories (ClarkxLex from Smallville) they are amazing! Wonderful reading material so go read them! Also to the story who gave me inspiration to write this **_**The Brother That Loves You**_** by Josu. You can find the story on .**

**Anyway I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:**** I don't not own Person Of Interest, just my story idea. Also this is not slash so sorry Rinch fans. I am Rinch fan as well so please don't hate me. If I didn't keep anyone in character or if something isn't accurate please let me know so that it can be fixed.**

**Please Read and Review!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

It was that time of year again.

The day that changed everything in John's world at a young age.

How he dreaded this day.

How he _hated_ it.

He wish he could obliterate the day altogether. Make it disappear, like it never happened. Maybe then things would have turned out alright. There wouldn't have been any pain, or so many tears shed. So much heartbreak.

_A little boy hiding in the hallway. The shouting still going on, it surprised him that the neighbors hadn't come over to complain about the noise level. He could his hear his mother crying. His father and older brother yelling more and more fiercely at one another with each passing second._

"_How could you do that! To me! To your family! What the Hell were you thinking?!"_

_I didn't think nothing of it at the time! It was a just a joke! To see if I could do it! I didn't think it would go that far! And no! I didn't embarrass or disgrace this family! You have!"_

"_How dare you talk to me like that! I'm you father!"_

"_Whose boozed up half the time, I'm surprised your commanding officer is still letting you serve the unit while you're intoxicated!"_

"_Baby please…" His mother's pleading voice._

"_I'm sorry Mom, but it's true! I know it! You know it! The bloody world knows it! But not him! The Sergeant of the family! More like the tyrant!"_

_A crash of some sorts, glass breaking against the wall. If only the little boy could see…_

"_Richard! Please stop! You're going to wake up Johnny. Please both of you, just stop and we will discuss more about this in the morning when things are much calmer."_

"_A.J. is in bed where he is supposed to be. But this boy…No. I have had it with you. Get out of my house this minute. I am done with you."_

"_Richard!"_

"_You can't be serious!"_

"_I am serious. I am sick and tired of your attitude. The way you disrespect me and go behind my back. I have fed and clothed you all your life. Kept a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me? Well not any more. Get out. Now."_

"_Richard please!"_

"_Shut up Anna! Stop defending this boy or I will be throwing you out with him as well."_

"_Don't you dare talk to her like that! You bastard!"_

"_Ungrateful brat! Just for that, I won't even let you grab your things or say goodbye to A.J."_

"_I can't even tell my little brother goodbye? You...You…!"_

"_What are you going to call me, you little piece of-!"_

"_Stop! Please stop! You two need to stop this!" The wailings of the woman could not soften the stern commands of the older man. The little boy's heart kept clenching and twisting in pain. The order had been given and there was no way to retract it._

"_Get out boy! You're causing a ruckus."_

"_Someday…somehow…you will get what's coming to you. When that day comes, I hope I'm able to see it."_

"_Get out of my house! NOW!"_

"_No…God no…please…"_

"_I'm sorry Mom.…tell Aidan that I'm sorry…that I love you both."_

"_Please baby…don't leave…"_

_The only sounds that echoed throughout the house were the closing of the door, signaling the departure of his older brother forever. His father's yelling, now directed at his grief stricken mother, sobbing over the loss of her eldest son. What the three would never see, were the fat tear drops sliding down the boy's cheeks as he quietly ran back to the safety of his bed._

John's breath hitched as he tried to compose himself. Reminding himself that he was an adult now, not the six year old boy wishing for so many thing to be fixed. Wishing for a better father. Wishing for his mother not to be sad anymore. Wishing for his brother to come home again, back to him. To hug him and to play catch in the park or stay up late reading comic books and sneaking snacks.

He wasn't six anymore.

He's all grown up now.

With dead parents.

An older brother long since gone.

He wasn't in the army anymore.

Jessica, the love of his life was dead as well.

John used to be lost.

He used to be hollow.

He used to be alone.

Not anymore.

John has a purpose now, a reason to live and move on. To protect the innocent and fight the evilness that plagued them in this world. All thanks to one man. All thanks to-

**BZZ! BZZZ!**

The ex-soldier reached for his phone that had been sitting on his night stand. He smirked as he looked at the caller ID, and accepted the call.

"Hello Harold, isn't it a little late for a social call? Unless of course we have another Number."

The posh voice of the phone replied,_ "Mr. Reese, it isn't that late, it's barely ten thirty. And no there isn't another Number to save or stop. Probably won't be one for a while until you recover."_

"It's just a cold. Everybody gets them from time to time."

"_Yes, but do they get colds by diving into the freezing waters of the docks, chasing after gangsters? I think not. Also your fever was pretty high this morning when you came to the library."_

"Oh Harold, it's gone down a bit."

"_By what a point one degree? Really Mr. Reese, don't lie to me when it involves your health."_

Good ole Finch. Always worrying about everybody else, but himself. It's been so long since somebody cared about John. So many years in fact.

John chuckled, "Keep this up and you'll turn into a Mother Hen Finch. You already started with Bear."

"_I am not a Mother Hen!"_

A happy bark could be heard, seeming to disagree with Harold. John had to stop himself from laughing out loud when he heard the older man mumbling 'traitor' to their dog. Best not to say anything right now to damage his partner's reputation.

"So what's the reason for the call, besides checking up on me?"

"_Checking to see if you are properly taking care of yourself with your cold and to open your door for me. My hands are full."_

"What?"

Barking was overheard, but not from the other line.

John sighed, shutting off his phone and putting it back on his nightstand. He wrapped his wool blanket around himself, and padded over to the loft's door. Lo and behold there was their excited dog and his employer carrying a large box of-

"Tell me you didn't buy out the entire pharmacy." He took the leash from Harold, unhooking it from Bear's collar. The dog gave him a happy ruff and licked his hands. Then bounded off to lie down on the soft cushions of his doggy mat. Finding some of his squeaky toys, he began to chew on them contentedly. John smirked and shook his head as he watched Finch limp over to the table, setting the box down. Locking the door, he went over to his friend and he started to remove the contents from the box.

"I did not 'buy out' the entire drugstore Mr. Reese. I only grabbed the essentials that you might need in order to battle off your cold."

John looked at the 'essentials' on his table. "Eight boxes of different cold medicines? Vapor Rub, five bags of cough drops, and _boxes_ of tissue papers? What else, supplies from Red the Cross? Really Harold?" Okay he was grateful for the cough drops because he was running out, but he didn't have to tell that to his friend

"Stop exaggerating John or I won't give you the soup I picked up from that place you like so much."

"That's cruel Finch."

"I never did say I was a nice man, Mr. Reese. Now sit down and get comfortable while I get this ready for you." With a wave of his hand he 'shooed' John away over to his bed while he went to the kitchen area to fix the soup. The soldier could only chuckle to himself as he climbed into his bed, bundling back into the blankets. Bear decided to leave the cushiness of his bed to jump onto his human's bed. The animal curled up next to him, putting his head into his owner's lap. John softly stroked Bear's head as he waited patiently.

And that's how Harold found the both of them.

"And you say _I_ baby him." Harold arched an eyebrow as he placed the small table and tray on top of John's lap. The younger man had to smile at the display: A tall glass of water sat in the corner next to one of those plastic cups, with pills and capsules (way too much medication, he needs to be on constant alert at all times!) There was also a small loaf of bread, that must have been baked at least a few hours ago, and at the center was a porcelain bowl filled with steaming hot chicken soup.

Finch had to go up and beyond just for him. It just boggled John to the extreme.

"You really outdid yourself. I hope you got something for you to eat as well."

"I got one of their soup specials. There is no need for your concerns."

John glared at him. He couldn't just stop doing that, not to anyone. He always worried if Finch was eating properly or not doing anything strenuous to harm his body, especially with his spine and leg. The soldier cared deeply for his geeky partner.

The older man responded as he went to get another tray to place his food on and a chair for him to sit comfortably. "Stop glaring Mr. Reese or you'll get wrinkles. Now eat your soup before it gets cold." John sighed and taking his own spoon, he scooped up some of the broth. He blew on it a couple of times to cool it, then swallowed it down.

It was delicious!

He could taste the chicken greatly, and the vegetables along with the rice didn't overwhelm the flavor. The piping hot liquid felt good going down his sore throat. John hummed in delight.

"You seem to be enjoying your meal, Mr. Reese." Harold remarked. He sat down next to John, with his tray of food and wine.

John smirked. "Chicken soup is the best meal to have when sick. It's the rules." John grabbed his pills (_still too many Harold!_), and swallowed them down with his water.

"It is indeed delicious, but I much prefer tomato soup. It's simply delectable."

"I can only drink that vampire concoction with a grilled cheese sandwich."

"Really now, vampire concoction? How old are you? Six?" If John didn't know any better, he would have sworn the older man snorted. "Though I do agree that it tastes better with a sandwich. Also, I prefer to leave the crust on my grilled cheese, unlike you."

The soldier stopped eating and looked straight into his friend's eyes, which were looking at him in confusion. "How did you know that I don't like the crust on my grilled cheese sandwiches?" Ever since he was a child, John always asked for his mother or his big brother to remove the crust off any of his sandwiches. Though when his father made them he had to take the crust off himself. Later on as he became an adult Jessica always teased him about it, but he had never cared. He just didn't want the crust anywhere near him.

Harold nearly choked on his wine. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth, careful he didn't spill any of his drink on to his fine, expensive, tailored clothes. "I saw you…cutting the crust off of that awful sandwich they call the _Brooklyn Beauty,_ about a month ago? Which reminds me, how could you eat that disgusting thing?"

"Hey that is a classic here in New York!"

"It should be banned, tagged and _black labeled _everywhere in the interest public health and safety. It's something I wouldn't feed to Bear."

"Hey!"

"It's a hazard to the public welfare!"

"Better than that blowfish dish you had at that Japanese restaurant two weeks ago. Who would eat poison fish?"

"It's a tasty cuisine! And it's called fugu."

"The very name itself implies fungi."

"Actually the translation for it is 'river pig' Mr. Reese."

John rolled his eyes. "Which sounds _appetizing,_ Mr. Finch."

Finch's face turned beet red. "Grow up."

"Make me!" John stuck his tongue out at him.

"I think your medication is taking over. You're starting to speak in gibberish."

"Even gibberish is easier to understand than that computer lingo you're always tapping out."

"Its complex computer codes."

"Whatever…Geek."

Finch smirked with satisfaction. "Don't forget that this 'Geek' signs your paychecks."

Instead of Harold's intent in ruffling John's feathers, it actually made the younger man smile. Rarely had he ever seen this side of Harold before. The only other time that came close had been when his partner was high on ecstasy. Something he couldn't quite forget. Harold had been very chatty, wanting to talk about the past.

The past.

Funny how the past creeps up on us.

Though it did make John wonder…how much did he really know about Harold Finch? They may have been partners-turned-friends these past two years, but did they really know one another? It questioned if they both could trust the other. He knew Harold had his back and he certainly had the older man's as well, but was it even enough? Could it grow and deepen their friendship? Hell he didn't even know Finch's real name.

And no matter what Finch said about knowing everything about John, the man didn't even know his true name.

Maybe that had to be changed.

Bear whined, pawing at John's arm breaking him away from his thoughts. He scratched the dog's ears to reassure him everything was okay. He didn't even notice that Finch had taken away their dishes until he felt a hand gripping his shoulder. He looked up into those concerned eyes.

"John…are you alright?"

"Yeah…Just thinking of things…That's all."

The older man sat down next to him on the bed, instead of the chair he had been previously sitting in. "What is it that's making you contemplate deep thoughts?"

John's thoughts whirled around in his head. How could he ask his friend the hard questions without distancing himself further away, or worse, ruining their friendship?

Instead…

"Why are all your aliases bird names?"

Harold stared then blinked. He stared some more and then blinked some more with a very owlish expression.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just interested. Why do you always use bird names?"

Finch took off his glasses, inspecting them carefully. He began to clean them. "I happen to like birds." He huffed, closing himself off. "That's all." He turned away from his friend, putting his glasses back on.

The tension began to spread in the loft. Making the soldier feel even sicker than he already was with his cold.

"Harold I'm-"

Finch interrupted John almost abrasively. "Why don't you stop stalling and just ask the question you _really_ want to ask me? Like perhaps what my real name is. Is that it?"

"Yes-"

"I told you I'm a private man Mr. Reese and I expect you to respect my wishes and my privacy. Yet you decide to disregard that. Pump me for information about my past? About the Machine? My origins and my true name? There's a reason why I don't use my real name."

"I'm not using my real name either Finch-"

"I already know that and I have respected _your privacy_ and _your reasons_ why. Why do you want to know so badly? Are you going to sell the information to the highest bidder?"

"No I would never-!"

"Just like Dillenger did to me? He was going to rat me and the Machine out for quite a large sum of money and it killed him in the end. Is that what you're going to do to me?"

"I'm not that kind of man Finch!" John exclaimed mortified, his heart lurching at his partners accusations. Where was that trust?

_Silence_

Both men stared at one another through the suddenly quiet and heavy tension of the loft. The only sounds that could be heard were the busy noises of New York life and Bear's distressful whining. They could have gone on like this forever if John's lungs weren't hurting, setting him off into a mild coughing fit. Harold's back became very stiff. The recluse sighed, stretching out his sore muscles while John took sips of his water.

The soldier's heart ached. It felt as if he was losing his loved ones all over again. He had crossed the line that had been made between him and his boss years ago, and now he was suffering from the consequences of it all. He had to make things right again.

"Harold…I'm sorry… I shouldn't have-"

"No need to apologize Mr. Reese. I'm…in the wrong here. I am the one who should be sorry about all this."

Taken aback by Harold's admission, John looked at him. It was very rare to see the older man admit he was wrong.

"I shouldn't have said all those things. I know that they're not true. I know you would never do any of those things. You're a good man John. A better man than me."

John could only watch as his friend took some deep breaths before he continued on.

"I've always had to keep myself away from others. Distance myself from the people around me. Even before the accident…before the Machine…before Nathan and Grace. I have always had to run John. I've been running ever since..." Harold shook his head and closed his eyes. "There are so many things about me John that you don't know about yet. Secrets that I have to keep save not just for me...but for you as well. I cannot endure the idea that you might get hurt because of me."

John reached for the older man's hand, causing Harold to jump a bit. John held it gently relaxing him. "I can take the pain Harold. Always have."

"You've been hurt enough as is."

"Just as much as you have."

Harold smiled sadly at him. "I do trust you. Make no mistakes about that. It's just…I can't tell you right now. I wish I could tell you everything John. I only know that I'm not ready to share my secrets with you yet. But that's not the whole truth. It's mostly how you would handle the truth…about my past. I'm so sorry."

"Harold…"

"I... have taken too much of your time." The older man stammered, stiffly lifting himself up from the bed. "You're supposed to be resting. I will just take Bear and leave you alone to recover. I-"

John didn't let go of his hand.

"Mr. Reese if you would be so kind-"

"John is my middle name."

"You don't have to do this…"

"My Mom preferred to call me Johnny like that famous singer Johnny Cash. She loved his music. Dad always called me-"

"It's the medication talking. Stop before you will regret telling me all these things. You-"

"Harold, it is not the medicine talking and I'm most certainly not going to regret this. I want you to know because I trust you Harold. I trust you with all my secrets because I know how much you value secrets."

"John…"

"I want to tell you this. You're my friend Harold. And it's been a long time since I've had anyone in my life. Not even Jessica knew of my past before I met her."

Finch finally sat back down. John looked steadily into his friend's eyes. "I know you're a private person, but I'm just letting you know that I'm here and will wait patiently until you're ready to talk."

It took a long time of them just sitting and staring at each other, until Finch finally nodded his head, quietly mumbling, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

John smiled a bit, and fixed himself a better position on the bed much to the disgruntle growls of the furry killing machine. Finch petted Bear's head, causing the dog to sigh in contentment.

The soldier began again.

"My Dad always called me by my initials, A.J. Neither he nor my Mom called me by my first name unless I was in trouble. I was a bit of a rascal when I was younger. Always looking for action. Sometimes I had to make it for myself."

Finch's mouth twitched upwards. "I know that all too well."

"I think I drove my Mom crazy with all my antics. She was the quiet type, sweet and very kind. And passive. Much too passive."

John's face darkened as he went on.

"My father…was a complicated man. He was good…when sober. And that wasn't very often. It was when he was drunk that you had to watch yourself. The smallest things could set him off. At first he would just yell, scream, and throw stuff at the walls. It wasn't until later that the... beatings started. But that only happened when he was really pissed-"

John stopped when he heard a growl and it didn't come from Bear…

Glancing over, John saw the most furious expression on Finch's face. He had never seen his friend that angry before. His lips were in a thin straight line and his eyes dilated with so much fury.

Harold seemed to struggle. "He hit you and…and your mother?"

Harold's hissed his words sent shivers down John's spine. "Yeah he did." His sore throat became constricted with emotion. "But like I said he didn't beat us that often and it was only when he was in one of his drunken rages. I always tried to take the hits so Mom wouldn't get that badly hurt, but I was small and made mistakes. I tried to protect her-"

"There is no excuse. He hit his wife and his young son. He had no right to do that to either of you. He should have been protecting you both! Not acting the savage and beating you! How dare he! How DARE he!"

"Harold breathe! You are hyperventilating! Breathe!" The soldier grabbed Finch's vest, shaking him out of his furious ranting. The older man was gasping trying to control his breathing. Bear went over to comfort his owner, licking his face. Harold sputtered, moving his face away from the doggy tongue, but he scratched Bear's ears, letting him know that he was alright.

Once he was composed, Harold cleared his throat nervously. "I'm sorry for that outburst. You just took me by surprise that's all."

"It's okay Harold. Like I said it wasn't often he hit us. It only got worse when…when…my brother left."

Harold's face fell.

The uneasy silence returned again.

John's clenched the sheets tightly, lost in memories of old; Trying to find the strength to talk about his older sibling again. He felt the bed shift and tearing away from his dark thoughts he saw Finch. His back was turned and through movement he could tell that he had removed his glasses.

"Your brother…"

John had to strain his ears to hear that soft whisper.

Finch pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes very firmly closed. His face looked weary and seemed to have aged even more. After a while he put his glasses back on.

"You had a brother…" Harold prompted.

John slowly nodded his head, not trusting his voice right now. It had been so long since he spoke of him…

"My older brother…he was my protector. I looked up to him. He was my hero." John felt the distance from reality shrinking as he ventured on into old precious memories.

"Out of everything I could endure… him leaving was the worst. From that day on I was alone. I had to pick up the slack in order to protect myself and my mom."

Finch cleared his throat, distracting John again from his thoughts. "I am sorry. I am so sorry."

John sighed, closing his eyes. "Don't be. He's nothing more than a memory and a name now. They all are." His eyes remained closed; feeling more tired than before the medicine must have started to kick in.

The older man slowly turned his body, finally being able to look at him. "What do you mean by that?

A groggy reply was his answer, "Exactly what I meant. They are gone. All I have left are just memories. The good and the bad."

"John…"

"I honor my brother's memory, to keep it alive, by using his name. I wished to make him proud of me. When I finally find him, I want to be worthy of him. All I ever wanted, all I ever worked for, was to be worthy of his name. So when the day comes when I see him again I want to make him proud."

John's eyes drooped, his head falling back to hit the pillows. He murmured sleepily. "Maybe this time he will stay. I will finally have my brother back."

He gave off a small yawn. "I won't be alone anymore."

John felt the sheets being tucked around him. A hand smoothing down his hair into a familiar caress. Before sleep took over, he quietly hummed, "Reese…"

A small smile appeared on his face, as he dreamt serenely of family from long ago. Of a family that had been and could almost be again.

For the longest time, Finch watched over him as John slept. Making sure that the younger man was sleeping heavily,

Harold silently limped away heading towards the bathroom. Shutting the door securely behind him, he made his way to the sink. Removing his glasses he set them aside. Turning on the cold water tap, he splashed his face a few times. Reaching to grab the hand towel next to him after he had turned the faucet off, he caught sight of his reflection. He paused a moment, staring so intensely at himself. His eyes searching for something. Searching for something that had been missing for so long…

Unable to stand the sight of himself anymore, he bowed his head in shame. A shuddering gasp escaped from his lips as he collapsed onto the cold marble counter top, which gave him no comfort whatsoever.

"I'm sorry Aidan. I'm so sorry."

* * *

**So there we have it! The big reveal! We really don't know the whole history of our boys here, so here's my idea for it. I thought it would be cool if they were related or somehow knew each other from before their lives became this hectic. Let me know what you think of it. Again thanks to KaraCullen for her help! You are the best froggy! *Hugs***

**Since I will be continuing this story, I have a few ideas for a couple of chapters, but I want to know how you should think John should find out about Harold being his older brother? Love to get your opinions on that if I can. I greatly need help with this.**

**Anyway if there is something that needs to be correct please let me know so that it can fixed as soon as possible. And again I am working on my other stories as well so I shall be trying to get that all done so I can post them. Please be patient with me.**

**Oh and for those who are wondering, the sandwich called The Brooklyn Beauty is real. It is composed of cream cheese, kipper salmon, pickled herring salad, and horseradish served on rye or pumpernickel bread.**

**Please Read and Review!**

**Thank you!**

**Dreamcreator**

**P.S. I have a tumblr page now which you can find on my profile page so please check it out because that's where I will be posting updates about old and new stories. Thank you!**


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